Come with Me - Aphado Nin
by Lilith Evy
Summary: Short stories and letters about Aragorn & Legolas' relationships. From Estel's early life in Rivendell to his coronation day, the affection between them was never changed but grown fonder by age. A funny male OC is included ;) Please R&R!
1. The First Letter

The first letter. A.

I see you in the morning light, dressed formally in elvish style, with a head ring, a bit like a tiara on your shiny, bright gold hair, and your serious, faithful facial expression. I cannot keep myself serious anymore when I see you like that. Not even at my coronation day. But you are so fair, so fair that makes me cannot say any word. Your face so clean and faithful, your whole person standing there with the banner held behind you, representing elves. A drop of sunlight blooms upon you, makes you look like a dream. I see you standing there giggling when I am crowned and when I chant in elvish, and yet you hide your giggle from your kin and fellow participants.

When I starts to walk down to the crowds, you come up to me with a beautiful smile. That is obviously the remains of the giggle, and only me can notice that. You nod to me, and that makes me confusing. As a King, all of a sudden I cannot say anything. I am confused. Finally in seconds I come up with this _Hannon Le _and I say it as gently as possible. As I predicted, nothing is revealed. We do the movement, you know what I mean. I see it in your eyes. And my embrace with Lady Arwen made them feel nothing. Nothing at all.

This kind of affection isn't allowed in Kings. Never allowed. You can imagine how the people will say, but when they admire our brotherhood and friendship, no one will notice anything. And no one will understand that we have already gone beyond that long time ago. But as a King, I am not allowed to hold hand with you and walk beside the streams in the mountains, or have a nice, little private talk with your head on my shoulders at night in the gardens. I am supposed to be married and born sons, I am supposed to write a page of legend for Gondor. But I'd rather be with you.

I know what it is called. I know that it is love.

You left this morning, into the wilderness, into the woods. You cannot understand the dismay in my heart. The dismay that is huge, but I cannot express it. Because I know that for some percentage we may never meet again. But when I hold Lady Arwen's hand and wave you farewell, I cannot run to you like we were at Rivendell many years ago, and lay a kiss on your forehead to fare you well. You will laugh for certain, but you will feel wonderful. I want more than anything to see you smiling when your hair spreads puffily down the sunshine, just like in the good old times. But we may still meet again, not for certain, but I trust you for sure. I believe that with your skills of archery and weaponry, you will not get yourself hurt for even a bit in the wild. Just like those bold skill you shows in the Fellowship while protecting the fellow members. I am sure of that.

You are so fair, so fair that no elf maiden can even overpass. In my eyes you are the fairest of all earthly beings. I still remember that period of time, when we walked fearlessly and leisurely under the bright, clear yellow sunlight in Rivendell. When you put your arm on my shoulders, when we created those silly little running races, archery tournaments and surgery skills. That is the best part of my life, and indeed the most beautiful part of my life is meeting you. And having you being a friend, or more than that to me, that was, and still is the luckiest thing that can happen to me. Having you fight with me in wars side by side, with those foul creatures blood we refine our skills. Having you tell little lovely jokes. And every moment of being with you, no matter what we are doing, is just perfect.

Last time, when we talked in public, with Gandalf and many guards beside, I mentioned Lady Arwen. You just get what I mean. I whispered to you that I don't meant for it to go this far, I'd rather be with you.

"I'll talk her round, I'll talk to them." You said insouciantly, your eyes squinted. Your voice loud enough that everybody is able to hear, "I know you love her. I will help you." Then I stood up and left, and I saw you blinking towards me.

You know what I needed. A declaration.

You say that we will both be pure. We will wait for each other in a better world. We will meet again in our afterlife and next time to be born as people. But I cannot do that. You know that. I have to born sons for my throne, for Gondor's heir to it. I know that you will. I know that you will keep yourself pure and true, we both will in our heart.

I now write this on this old, dusty scroll-collective book, and I shall put it inside the White City's library, beside the Mirkwood History. That will make me think of you. No one will even bother to look at it, for it says nothing on the side, not to reveal its true purpose. I hope you can somehow see this message, no matter what way. You just have to know how much I love you, much more than Lady Arwen and anybody that still lives in this world. I hope that you love me the same as well.

But let us just set that aside and I shall bless you a peaceful adventure.

My dear _L._


	2. The Second Letter

L.

I touch your face in the morning breeze. I know you for so many years. You never tidy your hair, not even once. I always help you to set those dark, smooth threads together onto one direction, but you deny it. You giggle and make me sit down. You say that my hair is too nice that makes me look like an elf maid, and I say that a man, especially a man who will soon be a King, should make himself look clean. Then we fall into silence. And at last you put your arms on my shoulders, and you say that you do not want to be a King.

I want not too.

What awaits you is huge responsibilities and your freedom lost forever. Your messy hair will always be tidied, you will never dress like a ranger and run of into the wild again. You have lost the rights to do these things. And you cannot be with me, that is the thing makes me sad.

So many days. So many days had we spend together. I remember in Rivendell, when we met for the first time, you are still a child. I told you tales and myths, and you were so happy. Your face was so naïve in those days, but you were so young, so fearless. You called me "big brother", you took me to the garden and showed me those little flowers, you pulled my hair naughtily asking for another story, you were holding my hand.

And since when holding hand becomes not allowed between you and me.

You discovered that I have immortal life when you entered your youth. You learned that I will not die of mortal cause, and you will die eventually. You were worried, your dark, pure eyes was filled with tears that marks anxiousness. I smiled. I wiped your tears and on that exact day, we made a vow. In which that vow I shall never make again to anyone. Only to you. A vow that is tied to our lives.

"If I shall ever die, then I shall die with you side by side."

I do not ask anything for myself, but I am worrying about you, do you know? Last time I paid a visit, I saw wrinkles on your face. They appears in front of my eyes, dancing, moving, and carve themselves deep into your face and forehead. I know their meanings, you are not as energetic as you once was. You are old now, and you are slowly fading away from the world.

It is kind of odd, isn't it? Watching you grow up, changing from a child to youth, to middle-aged man, and now watching you grow older than me, with those bits of whiteness appearing on your face, and you becoming wearier everyday, and I have not changed for even a bit. Not a single thread of the carving of the age has appeared on me. I know that it is precious, the life of the Eldar, but if I am with you, I'd rather be with you, holding your hands, grow old with you and die with you.

I want to grow old with you, and follow you to wherever your final destination is.

I have decided. I will build a ship, a grey ship with huge sail. I will take you, my most beloved, and my loyal friend Gimli with me, and we shall sail away to the fair lands at the west. But I cannot go to you right now. Now I am deep within Mirkwood with my people, and I have got my own responsibility beside. But I think it is time. I will go to you fairly soon, and I will ask for your opinion.

I hope you can somehow see this... I can feel you, deep in my heart. You are also writing to me, aren't you? I understand your responsibility. I understand that deep in your heart, you also have a very special affection towards Lady Arwen. I understand that because in my earlier days, when you were still a young man, I also had a special affection towards an elf maid that I liked. Believe me, I understand everything.

You meant to be crowned the King, and I am very proud of you. Please do not be mistaken by me, when I looked into your eyes like that on the coronation day. You are very special, and you are very brave. I almost slipped it out, I almost said _gi melin_, but I did not. You stared into my soul suspiciously, and I laughed. You didn't hear what I whispered to you, and when you see her, your tears bursted out. You were like a fountain. I laughed once more.

"I brought you a gift." That's what I said. I shall write it here.

Am I being too selfish? Because I wanted you to go with us. Desperately. But you have got your things, and I cannot let you set them aside like that.

I am not the only one who loves you.

Why are you a man? Why aren't you an elf? Why are me an elf? Why am I not a man? Isn't that supposed to mean that we meant to have different destinies, that we meant to be parted? You and Lady Arwen are utterly the forth rare marriage of a man and an elf in the world's history, but me... Am I meant to be left alone? Is it wrong from the start, the love between us? I dare not to think more about it. Because I am scared, and I love you.

I love you as a brother, whom I fought side by side. I love you as a King, whom I am loyal to. I love you as a kid, whom I have cherished and cared. I love you as a friend, whom I have pledged my soul. And I love you as a man, whom I would give everything. You are the one who I am drawn to, and no matter what happens, I will not leave you.

My dear _A._


	3. The Third Letter

_This letter was written when Aragorn was still a boy of 16 years old, with a lame comment of another elf on it._

Dear Mr _Legolas_,

Hello! Estel here.

I think you will be surprised to receive this letter from me. Meldarion taught me how to write an letter, and this is the first time that I have wrote to somebody. I do not know what to call you in a formal way, so I will just add Mister, just in case. Forgive me if my common tongue script isn't well enough, I haven't been practicing lately. But I can write the Sindarin script quite well. Look how beautifully I wrote your name! But I think your name in common tongue is Greenleaf? I am not sure.

I haven't heard from you in a while. Where have your been? You said that you will come at the end of summer, you said that you would tell me stories of elven heroes, worthy of epicene. But you didn't promise me. I should have ask you to. And now you didn't come, I do not know what to do. If I was clever, I would have asked you to make a vow.

Meldarion also taught me how to make a vow. He said that it is only for important occasions. He taught me a lot of things. You also taught me a lot of things. I haven't been practicing archery. I cannot focus on the target without you. Oh, and the string on my bow is a tiny bit loose, can you help me to make it tighter when you come to the Valleys of Imladris? Look, how beautiful are my elvish script!

Meldarion said that if you felt a strong affection towards an elf (or a man) of your gender, you call him brother. But you are a lot older than me. How am I supposed to call you brother? I don't know. Meldarion said that I can pour potato soup into your wine, and that will trick you, he said that you will then vomit and the mixture will go onto your hair, and you will make a meal out of it. I don't understand, Mr Legolas, how do you make a meal out of vomit, potato soup and wine?

Oh, and I have to talk about an essential (It is a new word I learned in common tongue. Does it mean "important"? I will have to ask Meldarion) matter. The people around me, the elves, I noticed a thing about them, and you. They don't seem to grow old. I've seen them for all these years, and they stayed the same. Meldarion said that men like me will grow old, that we don't have the life of the Eldar. What does that mean? Didn't we promised, or we made a vow with each other that we are going to spent our life together? What if I die first? You said that you were going to bring me to the world and we will journey together, what if I die before that? I am frightened. Please tell me that this will not happen, please, I don't want to die before you. I want us to die together, can we?

Well, that is pretty much it. I will have to sleep early. Lilith is going to train us tomorrow and I should get enough rest. I will seal it and give it to Eli. He will deliver it to you, he is going to the Woodland Realm. Hope to see you soon, and I will have to show you my new sword! It's very masculine(another new word Meldarion taught me).

See you.

Love and best wishes,

_Estel_

* * *

_Hey, the kid's in love with you. Good for you. XD from Meldarion_


	4. A Door

"Legolas!" Estel sprinted and screamed cheerfully with surprise and delight towards the elf's direction, before he could even get off the horse. He hugged the elf affectionately with his head resting alongside the elf's smooth, delicate golden hair. He was so happy and moved, that even some tears of joy fell down his cheek, onto the elf's hair. The boy noticed it, and he stood up, trying to rub it off with his little hands.

"Oops." He said with regret, "Sorry. Tears fell. I shouldn't cry. Meldarion said, _If anything fell on your friend's perfectly brushed hair, he would think that it is a big deal._"

Legolas laughed out loud at the vivid imitation Estel made. He hugged Estel up in the air tight. "No. I wouldn't. Not to you. Not to anyone. Hey, little boy, I really missed you. Have you grown?"

"Yeah. By two teaspoons. Meldarion measured it for me." Estel said with his chest proudly squared, grinning, tiptoeing and jumping to touch the elf's chin, "See, see? I can touch your chin! Last time I could only reach your chest."

"Hey, hey! Teaspoons is not the correct unit of measurement! It's _inch_!" Legolas squatted and put his hands on Estel's shoulder, and whispered mystically: "Shhh. Don't hang out with Meldarion anymore."

They both laughed at this little joke. Meldarion was the mentor Elrond assigned for Estel, the Hope of Men. He was a scholar, but quite a funny one. Legolas and Estel both knew that he would always teach Estel the right thing, and help him remember it, till he totally had the skills. And then the dark-haired elf would teach him a parody version of what he just taught. He would tell the kid that 'dwarves are originated from orcs' while he taught him 'dwarves are noble people who digs for gold'; 'pray "kind Meldarion, my Mellon forever" before eating and when in distress' while Estel just learned that 'pray "A Elbereth Gilthoniel" before eating and when despair fell'. Elrond didn't know any of it, but Legolas thought that it was good for the child. It kept him humourous, or at least funny and cute for the moment.

He did not get too grim. It's not good for Kings-to-be.

"Come on, my friend!" Estel called out loudly, "You promised me to string my bow. Go down to the garden and wait." He winked and smiled adorably.

* * *

"So, what's on your mind, Legolas? Why have you not visit me since winter has passed? What happened?" Estel said while fiddling with his newly strung bow, wondering at the crafting skills of a wood-elf.

"Estel." Legolas replied with his name. Short, but frank. "It is indeed something important, and I think it is time for you to know and think about it. You mentioned this in your letter to me, too." He paused for a second, as if what he was about to say was as sour as a half-grown apple, "Someone who was very dear to me passed away months ago. She died in a battle. A very, very epic, tragic and solemn battle."

"What? Passed away?" Estel turned around, dropping his bow onto the ground. He reached for the elf's hand, and asked with anxiousness in his eyes, "Does that mean, she died? In a battle? But I thought that elves don't die! Is she an elf? Oh, I'm so sorry."

"Yes, she is an elf. She was very strong, but she was still killed by orcs. She slain many. She had done great deeds. She was a leader. This incident, it made me hate the orcs more that I had ever been." Legolas uttered many choppy words and short sentences, because mentioning this was hard to him. "No, my dear Estel. Elves _die_. Not of any nature cause, nor of diseases and age, but of great sorrows that lies within their hearts and if they are badly injured."

"..." For a long time, Estel wanted to say something, but he did not open his mouth. He sat their, pondering about what the elf just said with a solemn face.

"But you, my dear Estel, whether by war, or diseases, or of the old age, you will die. I hate speaking of this to you, but you must know. I love you so dearly, and I hope that we can spend our lives together. But you will somehow pass away."

Estel swallowed. His eyes filled with an unknown fear.

"No, no, don't be scared, my dear boy." Legolas went to hug him, "Our lives are just a very long corridor. Like the one to Lady Arwen's chamber. You walk it slowly, very slowly. And when you finish the long walk, there is a door at the end. And you open the door. That is what Death is about. It is just a door to a new path. A new corridor. You understand, Estel?"

Estel responded to what the elf said quickly, "Yes, I understand. Legolas. But will you be there, at the end of my corridor?"

"This I cannot say. But it's enough for the day. Come on, go play. Go find Eli and ask what he saw on the journey." Legolas patted on the boy's shoulder as he ran away merrily, being happy once more.

* * *

Silentness.

"So you've been to Lady Arwen's chamber?"

"**Shut up, Meldarion.**"


End file.
